Run, Hide And Seek
by The Evergreen Quill
Summary: Hogwarts becomes the centre of a terrifying game, and they're all forced to play. One nightmare at a time. Bloody hell, indeed. D/Hr, disregards HBP onwards. Horror.


Prologue

He stood before a scene both familiar and alien, grass tickling his bare feet and the hems of his pyjamas. He knew this place anywhere, after all, he'd grown up within its towering stone walls, which normally thrummed with magic so powerful he was convinced it was alive.

It was so different though. The castle was the same, rambling structure he remembered, but it lacked its usual luster, appearing more desolate than it should have been. He could no longer feel the gentle hum of magic that flowed through the grounds. The Forbidden Forest was eerily silent, and even the sky seemed darker thick, grey clouds blocking any sunlight from passing through.

Everything was_ colder._

He shivered, the thin pyjamas doing nothing to shield him from the chill. His eyes searched around for signs of life anywhere, gazing at the dreary expanse, feeling panic rip through the length of him. Had time frozen? Was he being subjected to a curse? His fist clenched, and to his instant relief felt the smooth Hawthorn wood of his wand there. He needed answers.

Realising he couldn't stay there for long if he wanted to get anywhere, he began walking towards the castle, breaking into a sprint as he reached the doors, which were surprisingly unlocked. He pushed it open, wincing at the loud groan it gave, before peeking through the small gap. No one was there, so he quietly slipped inside.

He looked around, hoping to be chastised by Filch any moment now. Instead, he was met by silent, gaping corridors. Never before had he realized how lonely the castle seemed without the usual mischiefs running and chatting about. Foggy light streamed through the large, dusty windows, painting a forlorn image and adding to the gloom of the place.

Warily, he began to walk towards the Great Hall.

_Draco?_

He froze at the sound of the soft, musical voice. It seemed so far away, tinged with a deep sadness that he found disturbed him deeply. Who was it that was speaking to him? It sounded unfamiliar, but probably belonged to a little girl. Perhaps a younger student? Or maybe a ghost was playing a prank on him. Something told him that wasn't the case.

"Hello?" he called out, looking around him. An echo answered him. He was about to dismiss it as a figment of his imagination, when it spoke again. This time he was sure.

_Come to the seventh floor corridor, hurry._

There was a sense of urgency in her tone that hadn't been there before. He ruled out the possibility of it being a student. More likely a ghost. But still, this could be some elaborate ruse staged by someone. They were all probably laughing at him now. He should just make his way to the Great Hall and pretend this never happened. What could he gain by going anyway?

_You must._

The voice was firmer now, the gentle cadence morphing into a sharp warning note. He felt the strings of compulsion tugging him along. Maybe this person who was calling him could explain things. Besides, he had his wand with him. If someone was fooling with him he could always hex them back. He hesitated.

_Now._

With that, he began to walk towards the staircases. Inwardly, he berated himself for being so foolish. On the way, never once had he seen anyone. He noticed that each portrait was missing their inhabitants. A knot formed in his throat, but he went on, hoping to catch something _normal. _His senses were warning him now to turn back, but they were also egging him on. He was confused by the internal tug-of-war he seemed to be having.

By the time he'd reached the corridor, he was breathing heavily. He remembered this place. Potter and his friends used this for that stupid club in fifth year. He looked around, finding no one there. Had he been tricked?

Suddenly, he felt cold air at his neck, causing the hairs on it to rise and Goosebumps to appear all over his body. He whipped around, only to be greeted by the empty corridor he'd just passed.

_Draaaco._

It giggled softly, drawling his name childishly. A bead of cold sweat dripped down the side of his forehead. The sadness was gone, replaced by an impish tone that sent chills down his spine. That laugh was hollow, empty just like the desolate grounds of Hogwarts. It mocked him, and honestly, he was terrified.

Going here was a mistake. But somehow he knew this wasn't avoidable.

"Who are you?" he demanded, looking around the corridor. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

_It _laughed. What a poisonous laugh it was.

_Because I picked you._

Confused, he stopped his search, and stood still, clutching his wand tightly. "Picked me?"

It didn't answer. Instead, it giggled again. The sound was so cold, so wrong to be coming out of what he assumed to be a little girl's mouth.

"Where are you?! Stop playing games, this isn't funny!" he yelled out, the incantation for a nasty curse on the tip of his tongue. "Who put you up to this? Was it Potter? Weasley? Any of those bloody Gryffindors?"

_I'm INSIDE…_

He felt his heart ram against his chest repeatedly.

_FIND ME and I'll tell you._

_And then we'll PLAY…_

It trailed off maliciously. He gulped, before fixing a determined stare at the wall in front of him. Resolutely, he paced three times in front of it.

The door appeared.

He reached out and opened it, stepping into the dark room apprehensively. He cast Lumos with his wand, and a glow appeared, briefly illuminating the room, before it suddenly fizzed out. The sound of the door shutting reached his ears, and he was left standing in the darkness, his wand refusing to light no matter what he tried. He panicked, about to bolt towards the door when he found his limbs frozen in place.

He tried to move, to utter a sound, but it was no use. His wand slipped out of his grasp, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. Fear swallowed him whole as a cold wind swept at his feet, and light giggles began to sound from _right behind him._

_It's very simple._

It was speaking directly in his ear. Small, pale white hands began to encircle his shoulder, and the scent of blood reached his nose in sickening wafts.

_You just have to watch._

A torch flickered on.

He screamed.

* * *

"Draco! Draco! Wake up!"

Blaise Zabini and the other boys suddenly yelped as the door was slammed open by an irate Severus Snape. He stalked over to the small crowd gathered around a bed, where the blond sat, wide-eyed and breathing heavily, staring at nothing in particular.

"What is the meaning of this?" he snarled.

"P-Professor…" Blaise stammered, before regaining his composure, "Draco was having a nightmare."

"He might as well have woken up the whole entire Slytherin house with that infernal screaming of his!" he spat, before turning his attention to the shaking boy. "Mr. Malfoy! Enough of this foolishness!"

He didn't look like he'd heard Snape at all, not once flinching at his venomous tone. His whole face was pale, his chest drenched in cold sweat.

"He's gone barmy," muttered Goyle. Crabbe nodded in agreement.

Snape glared at them both thunderously. "Zabini, do you have a calming draught?"

Blaise nodded and went to retrieve the item from his drawer.

"You two," he addressed the hulking boys, "Hold him down."

The moment they touched his skin, he began screaming and kicking, thrashing around as if they were going to throw him in a fire. Even for Crabbe and Goyle, it was too difficult to pin the panicked Malfoy, that Snape had to cast _Incarcerous, _if only to restrain him slightly.

"Can't you just stun him?" Crabbe asked.

"How exactly would he be able to drink the potion?" the professor asked tersely.

Blaise returned and handed the bottle to Snape, who held Draco's jaw in place. He almost grimaced at how icy and clammy it felt to the touch. Swiftly, he drained its contents into the screaming boy's mouth, shut it before he could spit it out and pinched his nose so he was forced to swallow.

Within moments, the screaming died down, and his limbs fell limp. He did not close his eyes though, instead, gazed at them with the most desperate expression they'd ever seen.

"Can't…sleep…please…" he croaked out, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Snape looked grim. He turned to the boys, who were watching Draco closely. They looked visibly shook by the events.

"I will inform Dumbledore that you all are excused from classes tomorrow," he took a moment to level a sharp glare at them all, "See to it that this doesn't happen again."

With that, he swept out of the room, leaving a group of dumbfounded boys in his wake.

"So," Blaise muttered, "Who's going to be the unlucky sod who gets to explain this to Parkinson tomorrow?"

No one answered, too stunned to silence.

* * *

A/N: Whew. That took shorter than I expected. I was in a hurry to post this because I don't know when I'll be able to update again. Life is a mean, work-driving bitch. I am terrible at updating, honestly. I'll probably update this somewhere around the same time as Assembly Of The Sly.

I had this idea in my mind for a while now, and was re-inspired especially after watching a marathon of Asian horror movies. This is my first time writing horror in a really long time. It's quite difficult to write, I found, because stories don't have the same special effects that movies do. Oh, and no romance (and gore) until later.

I had three goals in mind for this chapter. One was to convey a sense of mystery, two was to keep a good amount of suspense (which I think failed halfway through), and three was to scare the shit out of everyone. Did it work? Yes? No? Either way, I'll be happy to hear your feedback, and some critiques you might have. I _do _aim to improve. What do you think will happen? What do you wish to see next?

Please review!


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